


Heels

by SharkGirl



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Acceptance, Body Worship, Boys in Skirts, Crossdressing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Drag, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, High Heels, Implied Sexual Content, Leg, Lost Bet, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Stiletto Heels, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: He was so certain he would be victorious, that he didn’t stop to consider what would happen if he actually lost.In which Michele loses a bet, but wins in the end.





	1. Forfeit

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This started as a fantastic request from the lovely @lizardcool17 on tumblr.  
> But, as usual, I got carried away, hehe.
> 
> Here are the first two parts, beta'd by my lovely followers.  
> The rating is for the final part.  
>  ~~Part three _should_ be the final installment (but you know how I get)~~  
>  Yup. It's going to be four parts. I'm sorry XD  
> Please enjoy!! ♥

“Absolutely not.” Michele crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at his twin sister. 

“Fair is fair, Mickey,” she sang, lacing her fingers and grinning like the Cheshire cat. “I won, so you have to do anything I say.”

She was right, of course. But Michele didn’t want to admit it. He was so certain he would be victorious, that he didn’t stop to consider what would happen if he actually lost.

And here he was.

Now Sara wouldn’t have to wait until she was thirty to start dating - his terms - and he _had_ to do whatever she wanted.

Just great.

“I won’t do it,” he insisted, eyeing the skirt she held in her hand.

“Oh, Mickey. It’ll be just like when we were little and we used to play dress-up in our-”

“You promised to take that to your grave,” he hissed, glancing from side to side as if someone could somehow overhear them through the thick walls of their shared apartment.

“Okay, I won’t mention the gowns,” she began, “Or the necklaces, or the heels-”

“Sara,” he warned.

“Or the tea parties,” she added quickly with a smile. “You know, Mickey. It’s completely acceptable for a man to like those things.”

“Of _course_ it is,” he groaned through clenched teeth. “But I don’t need it getting around to the other skaters, okay?”

“My lips are sealed,” she swore and then held the skirt up again. “So, makeover first and then,” she paused with a wicked little grin, “we’re heading to the club.”

 

 

Michele was aware of every pair of eyes on him as he stepped into the club behind his sister. He was already a good head taller than her as it was, but with the heels on, he felt like a human tower.

As he walked, he suddenly wished he hadn’t scoffed at the tights she’d offered him and actually accepted. His legs were still smooth from his last wax, but he felt so exposed with the skirt, which now felt ten times shorter than it had at home.

“C’mon, Mickey,” she called, waving him closer and heading toward the bar. He followed behind her, wishing desperately that they’d decided on an alias for him, just for the night. “Two of the special, please,” she ordered.

“Sure thing, ladies,” the bartender replied and turned his back to fix their drinks.

“Sara,” Michele whispered, moving closer to her and clutching her arm, the gazes of the other club-goers finally getting to him. “I want to go home.”

“No way, Mickey.” She pouted up at him. “We just got here.” Then she added, “And we agreed it would be a _full_ night out.” 

Michele groaned and leaned against the bar. “How many hours is that?”

The bartender brought their drinks over and set them down. Sara thanked him and grabbed her glass. bringing her straw to her lips. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He sighed and picked up his own drink, brushing away some of the stray hairs from the wig he wore, which had stuck to the obscene amount of gloss his sister had slathered onto his lips.

“Excuse me, miss,” someone drawled from beside them. “Would you care to dance?”

Michele’s blood began to boil. How _dare_ someone proposition his sister right in front of him?! He opened his mouth, but remembered himself, speaking in a slightly higher pitch than normal.

“She’s not interested,” he spat, eyes blazing.

“Oh, well,” the man floundered, his cheeks pink. “Well, I, um, I actually meant-”

“Did I not say it clearly enough?” Michele stood up to his full height, even taller with the heels on. “Not. Interested.”

“Right, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, then.” And then he backed away, disappearing into the throng of people on the dance floor.

“Mickey-”

“Like I’d let that lowlife dance with you.” He sneered. “What a-”

“ _Mickey_ ,” she said again, louder this time. “He wasn’t asking me to dance.”

He furrowed his brow, blinking in confusion. “Of course he was.”

“No.” She barely hid a smile as she rolled her eyes fondly. “He was asking _you_.”

“He was not,” he began, but Sara shook her head and gestured toward a group of men who were looking their way, but quickly busied themselves when pointed out. “He…was?”

“You’re quite popular, it seems,” Sara said, puffing out her chest proudly. “I’d say it’s my flawless makeup technique, but I think it has something to do with those legs of yours,” she teased.

Michele unconsciously tugged his skirt down. It felt even shorter than ever.

“Anyway, I’m going to slip into the bathroom to powder my nose,” Sara said. “But at least I don’t have to worry about protecting my big brother.” She grinned. “I think you can handle yourself for a few minutes.” And then she, too, was gone.

Michele fiddled with his straw, bringing it to his lips and chewing on the end as he waited for her to return. He knew he could send the next guy packing, no problem, but he really didn’t feel like talking to anyone else.

Maybe when Sara got back, he could talk her into dancing just the two of them and then, after a suitable amount of time had passed, they could leave.

He was deep in thought when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, miss, but I think you dropped your-” But the man froze, his deep blue eyes going wide. “Mickey?”

Michele swallowed, icy panic settling in his stomach. He licked his lips nervously before stuttering a quick, “Emil?!”


	2. Surprise

Emil wasn’t sure if he’d gone to the right club. In fact, he was just about to leave, when he spotted Sara by the bar. He called out to her, but she didn’t hear him. And, by the time he made his way over, she was gone.

She’d left her friend behind. A tall girl with the most unbelievably long legs. But Emil averted his eyes. He shouldn’t be looking at other people. Not when he was in a committed relationship.

Still, he noticed something catching the light on the floor just behind her and thought it rude not to return whatever it was. So, he walked over and bent down to pick up the bracelet, purposely not letting his gaze run along the length of her smooth, tan legs.

“Excuse me, miss,” he began, clearing his throat. “But I think you dropped your-” He froze when she turned around. Even with the makeup and the long, dark bangs of the wig obscuring his view, he’d know that face anywhere. “Mickey?”

The other man visibly swallowed, his eyes going impossibly wide. His tongue darted out to nervously swipe across his gloss-covered lips and Emil found himself unable to look away from the movement. But he managed to tear his gaze away when Michele shakily called out his name in high pitched squeak. “Emil?!”

“Yes?” he asked, forgetting that he’d appeared out of nowhere.

“What are you doing here?” Michele managed, his cheeks rosy even in the cool lighting of the club. Emil was about to answer, but Michele continued. “You came to Italy without telling me and…went to a club first?” He frowned, his eyes suddenly wet.

Emil knew he needed to explain himself before Michele’s misunderstanding got out of hand. “I’m here to see you,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t sure if I’d get the days off at first and then, I was waiting for my Space-A flight. You know how those can be and, uh…” He trailed off, practically feeling Michele’s eyes on him.

“But why didn’t you call me when you landed?” he asked, voice so soft, Emil barely heard it over the slow song that had begun to play.

“I did,” he said and, at Michele’s raised eyebrow, he added, “But Sara answered and said you were getting ready to go out to the club.” Emil hid a smile when Michele blushed and unconsciously tugged on the bottom of his skirt. “She told me where you were going and said it would be a great surprise.”

Michele toyed with the hem, his teeth coming out to rake over his glossy lower lip. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Emil said and then chuckled. “Of course, she didn’t say _who_ was going to be surprised.” He looked Michele up and down and bit his lip. “So-”

“I lost a bet,” Michele replied coolly, though he’d missed his straw when he brought his drink up. “Sara’s the one responsible for this-” he gestured toward himself, “ridiculous ensemble.”

“That’s not true,” Emil said, giving him a smile when Michele drew his brows down in confusion. “I mean, you don’t look ridiculous.” He brought a hand up and brushed a few strands of synthetic hair from Michele’s eyes. “You look gorgeous.”

Michele’s face turned bright red and Emil could feel the heat against his fingertips still on the other’s forehead. “Like this?” he murmured and Emil wasn’t sure he’d heard it.

“You know I’d love you any which way, Mickey,” he promised, moving to cup his cheek. “But you look especially stunning right now.”

Michele set his drink down and placed his hand over Emil’s, leaning into his palm. “You’re flattering me, Emil.”

“It’s only flattery if you’re insincere,” he said, gaze dropping to admire Michele’s form once more. “And I’m anything but.” He looked into Michele’s eyes, noting how dark they’d become, though that may have had something to do with the dimly lit club. He pushed aside some of the wig’s long strands and leaned close enough to whisper in Michele’s ear. “Hey,” he breathed. “Want to get out of here?”

Michele nodded and then stiffened. “I can’t,” he sighed. “Sara-” But, as if on cue, Michele’s phone started to vibrate in his purse. “One second.” He pulled out his cell and brought it to his hear, plugging the other with his finger to block out the faster song, which had just started.

Emil waited patiently, watching the emotions that played over his boyfriend’s face. Finally, Michele hung up and stuffed his phone back into his bag. 

“Sara met up with some friends and said ‘not to wait up’ and that I was ‘free to go’,” he quoted. “I suppose this means we’ve been set up.” He tugged on his skirt again, blushing slightly.

“I suppose it does,” Emil replied with a laugh. “Not that I mind.” He caressed Michele’s cheek, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Do you?”

“No,” he admitted, giving the smile that Emil was certain was just for him.

“Well, if you’re not opposed…” Emil offered his arm. “Shall we?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Michele took out a few bills and left them on the bar for his and Sara’s drinks. Then he glided over - impressive, considering the height of those heels - and took Emil’s arm. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr @jubesy or on my nsfw blog @xxxjubesy!
> 
> Oh and here's a little something from an ask, if you were curious:
> 
> Anon asked:  
> How big/tall are Mickey's heels also is he taller then Emil in them. ( these are the most Important questions in history!!!!!)
> 
> Excellent questions, indeed, Anon!  
> Emil is 183 cm.  
> Mickey is 179 cm and wearing a simple pair of stilettos with an 8 cm heel.  
> That puts Mickey at just about 187 cm.  
> So, yes. He’s a bit taller than Emil when he’s wearing heels.  
> >:3c


	3. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a liar. Well, not really. Since I said the third part _should_ be the final part.  
>  But yeah...as usual...I can't control myself.  
> So, **Part 4** will be the final part.
> 
> Please forgive me!!  
> And enjoy~♥

Michele took Emil’s offered arm, trying to hide his amusement when he realized he was just a bit taller than his boyfriend now. There was a lull between songs and the clicking of his heels seemed to echo through the club.

Once again, Michele felt eyes on him, but he paid them no mind. They didn’t matter. Emil said he looked good - actually, he’d used the word ‘stunning,’ which had made Michele’s cheeks tint and his heart flutter - and that was more important than what the others thought.

He did catch sight of the young man who’d asked him to dance, out of the corner of his eye. He felt bad about the way he’d rejected him. Of course, Michele’d thought he was after Sara, but he could have let the man down a bit easier.

“You move really well in those,” Emil said, drawing Michele’s attention away from the dance floor.

“What?” he asked, pushing some of his wig’s long synthetic hair over his shoulder and bending down just a bit to make up for their slight difference in height.

“The heels,” Emil clarified, glancing down. “As usual, you’re all fluidity and grace.”

Michele cleared his throat. “Flatterer...”

“Am not.” He chuckled and moved his arm to wrap around Michele’s waist as they came to the door. Emil ushered them outside and asked Michele to wait while he hailed a cab. Seconds later, he returned, smiling brightly. “It pays to leave early,” he beamed.

Once they were inside, Michele started to feel the usual butterflies taking flight in his stomach. He always got a little nervous when they were first together after time apart. Long-distance relationships were tough, after all. No amount of phone calls could prepare him for Emil in the flesh. Even after dating for two years, it still felt so new.

“So, where are we going?” Emil asked, taking Michele’s hand in his. “Sara said not to wait up, right?” He brought their joined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against each of Michele’s knuckles.

“She did, but,” Michele hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to clean the apartment or change the sheets.” He blushed at that last part and, maybe it was the warm glow from the lamppost outside, but he could have sworn Emil had, too.

“We can go to my hotel room...” Emil gave his hand a squeeze. “If you’d like.”

Michele licked his lips, a nervous habit, and then nodded. He dropped his gaze and tugged on the hem of his skirt when Emil gave the address to the driver. He suddenly wished he was wearing something else. 

It wasn’t as though Emil hadn’t seen him in less - they’d jumped that hurdle months ago - but he still felt so exposed.

The ride to the hotel was quick, far quicker than Michele thought it’d be, and soon Emil was paying the fare and helping him out of the taxi.

“You really do look good in that,” Emil said once they were through the lobby and waiting by the elevator. “Sara did a great job.”

Michele muttered a quick ‘thank you,’ but dared not look up. He tugged on his skirt again, willing it to gain a few more centimeters in length. Maybe he could change in the bathroom before they...did anything.

When the elevator arrived, Emil took his hand and led him inside. He pressed the button for their floor with his free hand, not letting go of Michele’s.

“I missed you,” Emil whispered as they ascended, so quiet that Michele wasn’t sure he’d actually said anything at first.

“I missed you, too.” He gave Emil’s hand a little squeeze, hoping it had the same effect on Emil as it did on him. It must have, because Emil leaned his head on his shoulder - easier now with Michele’s slight increase in height thanks to his stilettos - and gave a contented-sounding sigh.

“Mickey, I don’t mean to sound overeager,” he began, nuzzling his neck, “But as much as I love you in this outfit, I can’t wait to get you out of it.”

Michele’s pulse spiked, his face practically glowing as the doors of the elevator opened with a ‘ding.’

Emil was nothing if not a gentleman. But once they entered his room and closed the door, Michele was pulled into a bruising kiss. He melted into it, allowing Emil to press his back against the wall as he explored his mouth with his tongue, sending delicious shivers up and down his spine.

“Emil...” he moaned, thrusting his fingers into his boyfriend’s messy hair and pulling him closer. But he broke the kiss when two large hands slid up the backs of his thighs and under his skirt. “Wait,” he gasped, reaching down and grasping one of Emil’s wrists.

“Mickey? What’s wrong?” Emil stilled, concern painting his features.

“I, uh...” Michele swallowed. He applied light pressure and both of Emil’s hands fell away. “Let me just get undressed first.” He started to walk toward the bathroom, but Emil grabbed his hand.

“Mickey, what’s the matter?” he asked, voice soft.

“I just,” he began, still looking at the ground. “I don’t think we should do it while I’m...like this.” He glanced up, gauging Emil’s reaction. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but the gentle smile took him by surprise.

“Mickey,” he said, taking both of Michele’s hands in his and rubbing his thumbs soothingly over his knuckles. “If you want to change because you’re uncomfortable, that’s completely fine.” He paused. “But, if you’re worried that I’ll think it’s weird or something...you’re wrong.”

Michele stood there, unsure what to say. He wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly. In fact, when Emil complimented his outfit, he’d been delighted. It was just that he’d never shown this side of himself to Emil. To anyone.

Dressing up as a kid was one thing, but actually enjoying it now? Would Emil be okay with that once in a while? Or would he eventually-

“Mickey, stop thinking so hard,” Emil interrupted with a chuckle. “I said it before, but I’ll say it again.” He brought a hand up to caress Michele’s jaw. “You know I’d love you any which way.”

“Emil...” He leaned into the touch, letting his eyes slip closed.

“So, will you wear this for me? Just a bit longer?”

Michele’s eyes snapped open. “You mean...you _like_ this?”

“Mickey.” Emil fixed him with a look. “I’d take you right here, right now, if you’d let me.” At that, a pleasurable shudder racked Michele’s form, causing heat to pool in his belly. “But only if you let me.”

“And...you’re okay with me...like this?” Michele asked once again, not quite believing his boyfriend.

“Well, I’d get rid of this.” Emil unsnapped the back of the wig and removed the few bobby pins before tossing the fake tresses onto the desk chair beside them. “Much better,” he breathed. “Now I can see your face.”

“Emil...”

“I think you’re gorgeous, Mickey,” he swore, cupping his cheeks. “But if you don’t believe me, I’d be more than happy to show you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Michele closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a deep kiss. Then he pulled away, breathing heavily, and let his forehead rest on Emil’s. “Show me.”


	4. Show Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me!!  
> This chapter is a little more than T, but it's not a 'hard' M.  
> I do hope you all find it a little hot, though XD
> 
> Please enjoy!! ♥

Emil cradled the back of Michele’s head, peppering his face with sweet kisses as he walked them back toward the bed. He pressed his lips to Michele’s and reached for the hem of his skirt, pausing to ask permission. “Is this okay?”

Instead of answering, Michele took his hand and placed it against the smooth skin of his thigh. Then he kissed him, gasping into his mouth as Emil brushed his fingers along the sensitive flesh.

“Mickey,” he breathed, wanting nothing more than to lay his boyfriend out on the bed and worship those glorious legs of his. But he waited, inhaling shakily and nuzzling his cheek. “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Michele replied, giving Emil’s beard a playful little tug. “Are you?”

“Not at all,” Emil answered quickly and, as if proving a point, slid his hand up higher under Michele’s skirt, toying with the lace he found there. He smiled against Michele’s cheek and whispered in his ear. “Are these are pretty as they feel?”

He felt more than heard Michele swallow, but instead of receiving a shy mumble, Emil was gifted with a sugary sweet, borderline devious grin from his boyfriend. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Oh, he intended to do just that. But, before he got right down to it, he wanted to admire Michele for a little while longer.

Emil had always been a leg man. There was something about the combination of their strength and flexibility that attracted him. And there were no legs on Earth that embodied his ideal more than Michele’s.

And to see them like this, the muscles slightly tensed because of the heels and exposed so perfectly in the short skirt, well, it was something Emil had never known he’d always wanted.

“Have a seat, Mickey,” he said, barely containing his excitement. And when Michele did as he was told, Emil immediately fell to his knees, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the inside of his thighs and down one of his calves. “Beautiful,” he murmured against his flesh, and raised Michele’s leg to remove one of the stilettos. “Absolutely beautiful,” he continued and massaged his foot, pressing his thumb into the ball and rolling his knuckles up the arch.

“Emil…” Michele sighed, letting his eyes slip closed. He was propped up on his arms, his head slowly tipping back as Emil removed his other heel and gave that foot the same treatment.

“Sore?” he asked when Michele let out a little whine.

“A bit,” he admitted, looking down at Emil with dark eyes. “Haven’t worn them in a while.”

“So, this isn’t the first time?” Emil asked and felt Michele stiffen under his hands. He glanced back up and saw that the other’s face was bright red. “It’s okay, Mickey,” he promised, dipping down to kiss his ankle. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I don’t normally go out like this,” Michele explained. “I just…like the way it looks,” he added, tugging down the short skirt once again.

“Well,” Emil smiled, kissing his way back up to Michele’s knee. “That makes two of us.” He paused to suck on the delicate skin of his inner thigh, careful not to leave a lasting mark. “Plus, everyone else in the club, of course.” He kissed higher, his hands running up the length of Michele’s thighs and his fingers stopping short of the hem of his skirt. “You should have seen the way they were looking at you, Mickey.”

“ _Emil…_ ” he groaned, sounding embarrassed.

“But who could blame them?” Emil went on. “When you’ve got these on display.” He nipped the sensitive flesh, causing Michele to jump. “Did that hurt?” he asked, immediately pulling back with wide eyes.

“N-No…” Michele answered, placing a hand over his mouth and averting his gaze. He mumbled something into his palm, but Emil didn’t quite hear it.

“What?”

“I…liked it, so…” He let his hand fall away. His teeth came out to worry at his lower lip, the shiny gloss reflecting the light of the bedside lamp.

“Understood.” Emil grinned and leaned down, grazing his teeth over Michele’s soft skin until he reached his skirt. He pressed his hands closer, his fingers slipping underneath. “May I?”

“Yeah,” Michele breathed, his eyes half-lidded and his lips parted.

Emil flipped the skirt up, hiding his smile at Michele’s surprised squeak, and feasted his eyes on his prize. He bit back a groan at the sight. The light lavender-colored lace looked so lovely against Michele’s skin and the bulge beneath had Emil’s mouth watering.

How long had it been? When had he last tasted Michele?

“Stop staring, Emil,” Michele complained from above him. But the way he twitched beneath the fabric led Emil to believe that he didn’t dislike the attention.

“Mickey,” he said, walking his fingers up higher and dipping them under his waistband. “Could you scoot closer to the edge of the bed?”

Face aflame, Michele obeyed, falling back to rest on his elbows as he did. His feet easily reached the floor and Emil found his face sandwiched between silken olive skin. He was tempted to press Michele’s legs closer, to ask him to trap him there, but _that_ they could do later.

“Lift up, Mickey?” Emil asked as he tugged on the lacy undergarment. Michele once again obliged and Emil rolled the panties down, lifting one of his boyfriend’s legs to remove them. Michele kicked his other leg and sent the panties flying in the other direction. “Well, that’s _one_ way to take them off,” he chuckled and received a harmless bump to the shoulder from one of Michele’s knees.

“Focus,” he said and Emil kissed his knee in apology. Then he trailed those kisses up Michele’s inner thigh, pushing up the skirt than had fallen back down after his boyfriend’s little kick.

“Have I told you how good you look like this?” Emil asked, hovering over his goal, puffing warm air onto the sensitive skin.

“You…did,” Michele replied, pushing himself up higher so he could look down at him. He reached forward and cupped Emil’s cheek. “But…was _looking_ all you wanted to do?”

Perhaps it was their time apart or the fact that Michele was more comfortable now that he’d shared his interest with Emil, but something had gotten into him. Into both of them. And Emil was ready to do more than just look at what had been presented to him. He wanted to touch, taste, and possess. He wanted to make Michele scream his name. But before that…

“What do _you_ want me to do?” Emil asked, his heated gaze meeting Michele’s.

Michele gave his beard another playful little tug and, although his face was bright red, he whispered, “I want you to stop talking and put that mouth to better use.”

And later, after Michele had fisted his hands in Emil’s hair and screamed his name until he was hoarse, the two lay side by side, the rest of their clothing scattered on the floor of the hotel room.

“That was fantastic,” Emil sighed happily, trailing his fingers up and down Michele’s side and watching as goosebumps appeared on the other man’s skin.

“Yeah,” Michele replied, pressing closer to him and nuzzling his clavicle. “And, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat. “You didn’t mind the outfit?”

“Mickey.” Emil placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back far enough to meet his gaze. “I think I made it quite obvious that I _didn’t mind_ how unbelievably gorgeous you looked.” He kissed his forehead and added, “Still look, actually.”

He could almost hear Michele roll his eyes. “Still, it was…embarrassing. But, I’m glad you didn’t hate it.”

“Hate it?” Emil sighed and shook his head, unable to hold back a fond smile. “Mickey, you don’t need it, but you have my permission to wear a skirt and heels any time.” He bit his lower lip. “Of course, I can’t be held responsible for my actions, if you do.”

“Duly noted.” Michele nodded and brushed his fingers along Emil’s jaw, drawing him closer. His pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Emil.”

“I should be thanking you,” he offered, raising his brows. “Or, actually, I should be thanking Sara.” He made to reach for his phone, but Michele grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I was just going to-”

“ _Emil_.”

“Okay, okay.” He chuckled. “I’ll thank her later.” Michele grumbled something else, but Emil didn’t quite hear him. Still, he placed a kiss on his brow, melting the annoyed crease away with the gesture. “I love you, Mickey.”

Michele sighed and tilted his head up, his nose brushing against Emil’s. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think and hit me up on tumblr [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com) or on my nsfw blog [@xxxjubesy](http://xxxjubesy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
